


In Focus

by Maya_Koppori



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, If You Squint - Freeform, Kinda, i took it from the tweets, jack's photography, samwell geese, zimbits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8527339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maya_Koppori/pseuds/Maya_Koppori
Summary: There's nothing like a lens and shutter to narrow down your field of view and show you what you've overlooked.





	

It's the spring semester of Jack’s senior year, and he realizes that he's never actually paid much attention to his campus. It's his last semester at this school, and he’s never taken the time to really look at it instead of just rushing by it. 

That's what he realizes when he brushes powdery snow off of the tenth plaque he finds by the Pond. They're nothing really important- just trees and and benches named in honor of alumni and donors- but there's a history of sorts behind each of them, and Jack wonders what else he doesn't know about Samwell. What else he’s missed in his rush to get through and get back to hockey.

He lines up his shot, the old stone bench viewed from behind with a bare tree overhead and the frozen lake in the background. The lighting is tricky with the glare off of the snow, but he adjusts the dial on his camera and everything becomes clearer. The shot probably won't go in his portfolio, but he likes it- likes the way the undisturbed snow lines the top of the bench, how the plaque gleams gold from the frost that melted under Jack’s fingertips. 

He's so busy admiring the shot that the noise by his foot takes him entirely by surprise. He jumps, fumbling his camera. Only the strap around his neck keeps it from toppling into the snow. Jack looks down. 

A goose stares up at him from under the bench, its long neck poking out. It's completely still, and for a second Jack is too. He thought the last of the geese cleared out for warmer weather about a week ago, but apparently he was wrong. 

“Allo,” Jack says softly. The goose blinks at him. “You're all alone out here too, eh?” He slowly puts his hands back on his camera. 

He half expects the goose to run off as soon as he moves, but Jack gets all the way into a crouch and the goose is still staring at him. He brings his camera to his face and adjusts the focus. 

“Honk,” the goose says plaintively. 

“Shhh. I'll leave you alone in just a second.” The shutter clicks a few times as Jack takes multiple photos. They come out rather nicely, he thinks. This has to be the most photogenic goose he’s ever seen, and he can only see it’s head and neck. Idly, Jack wonders if he can spook it out from under the bench so he can get a full body shot.

“Jaaaaack!” a familiar voice shouts behind him, and Jack wobbles in his crouch. The goose squawks and hides its head again, retreating under the bench. “Brah, what are you doing down there? There’s nachos and football to be had!”

Jack shakes his head fondly and stands fluidly, waving a hand at the bundled up figure walking along the lakeshore toward him. “Hey, Shits. Just getting some homework done.”

Shitty rolls his eyes and throws an arm around Jack’s shoulders to lead him in the direction of the Haus. “Only you could turn something as emotional and inspiring as photography into  _ homework, _ Jacky boy. Let’s get you inside before those circuits of yours freeze.”

Going along with the good natured barb, Jack listens to Shitty ramble the whole way to the Haus. He stops walking once or twice to snap a picture of a snowman, or a cool tree, or a frozen fountain, or even Shitty, walking ahead and gesturing wildly with his hands. Jack’s breath catches for a moment when he sees the way the picture comes out. It’s obviously that Shitty doesn’t know he’s stopped. He’s still walking forward while Jack stands behind. 

Soon, he won’t get to walk everywhere with Shitty anymore.

“-completely out of my mind right?” Shitty looks for some agreement and turns, finds Jack frozen a few yards behind him. “Dude, you okay? What’s the holdup?”

Jack shakes his head sharply. “Nothing. Just… getting some more shots.” He thumbs over the control pad on his camera and saves the picture. He wants to keep that one.

They reach the front porch and Jack considers turning off the camera, but he hears a ruckus inside and decides to leave it on for now.

“Biiiits,” Ransom’s voice carries through from the kitchen. “Come on, look. I’ll go through some Facebook profiles and you can tell me yes or no, alright?”

“What are you guys doing?” Shitty calls from the doorway. 

“Finding Bitty a date!”

“Oh man, this I gotta see.” Shitty hangs his scarf on the hook, kicks the snow off of his boots, and heads for the kitchen. Jack follows.

Ransom has his laptop open to Facebook, scrolling through some guy’s page. Bittle is-

Jack bites back a laugh. “Why is Bittle under the table?”

“Hush, you,” Bittle pouts. He’s curled up, still wearing his apron, and hiding from Ransom with his phone in his hands. From what Jack can see, he’s probably twittering about the whole situation. “Rans, I told you. You don’t need to set my up with any more- what are you doing, Jack?”

Jack’s body moves on its own, lowering into a crouch and raising his camera. The shutter clicks.

Bittle’s face goes red and his thumbs fly across his phone screen. “Do not  _ take pictures  _ of me when I’m down here, Lord! I don’t need another lifetime sentence of chirps.”

No, Jack wants to say. It’s not for chirping. You remind me of someone.

“While you’re down there, do you want to see some pictures?” he asks instead. Maybe Bittle will get it if he sees. He’ll see it, too. What Jack’s missed.

But Bittle only laughs and hides his face. “Maybe some other time. I need to get back to work on those nachos and things for the game- if someone would be kind enough to derail Rans.”

Shitty immediately grabs Ransom’s laptop and slams it closed, holding it high over his head. “This is mine now, come and get me if you ever want to see it again.” He bolts from the kitchen.

“Wha- Shitty you prick, get back here! I haven’t even gotten to the archery club yet!”

“LEAVE THE POOR KID ALONE, RANS. THINK OF THE NACHOS.” 

Bittle crawls out from under the table and dusts off his hands, still laughing. “Wow. If they’re already this hyper before the game starts, I’m afraid of the damage they’ll do after kickoff.” 

“Yeah.” Jack can’t think of anything else to say. But when Bittle turns back to his abandoned food, Jack doesn't leave the kitchen. He hovers, trying to make a decision. 

It's silly, he thinks. He's seen Bittle bake hundreds of times. It's nothing new. But neither were those plaques. Neither was the goose.

While his back is turned, Jack captures one more picture. Bittle’s hair got messed up by the underside of the table, his jeans are dusty and there’s a smear of flour on his cheek.

It’s the best shot Jack’s taken all day.


End file.
